I had scarcely gone half-way before I met him coming towards me:  he seemed as much surprised to see me as I was to meet him.  He looked at me in a strange way, and then, leaning his back against a stone fence, he said, “Are you converted?”

“Why do you ask me?” I replied.  “I am just on my way to your house, to tell you the good news—­that I have found peace.  My soul is saved.”

The dear man said, “Thank God!” and it came from the very depths of his heart.  Shedding tears of joy, he went on to say, ’This night I woke up thinking of you; you were so strongly in my mind, that I got up and began to pray for you; but I could not ‘get hold;’ I wrestled and cried aloud, but it was all of no avail; I begged the Lord not to give you up; but it seemed I could not pray.  After trying for more than two hours, it came to my mind that perhaps you were converted.  This thought made me so happy, that I began to praise the Lord; and then I had liberty, and shouted so loud that it roused up the whole house, and they came rushing into my room to know what ever was the matter with me.  ’I am praising God,’ I said; ’praising God—­the parson is converted!—­I feel sure he is.  Glory be to God!  Glory be to God!’ They said, ’You must be dreaming; you had better lie down again, and be quiet.’  But it was of no use, I could not sleep; and so soon as the light began to break, I dressed myself, and have come out to see whether it is true,”

“Yes,” I said, “it is true; the Lord has saved my soul; I am happy!” I thanked him then and there for all the help he had been, and for the patience he had so long exercised towards me.  We spent a happy time together, thanking and praising God, and then he returned home to tell his friends and neighbours the news.

After breakfast a visitor arrived, who was on an errand of quite another kind.  The report had by this time spread far and wide, that I was converted in my own pulpit, and by means of my own sermon; also, that I had said, “If I had died last week, I should have been lost for ever!” My friend having heard this, immediately mounted his horse and rode over to see me about it.  He at once put the question, “Did you say, last night, in your pulpit, that you were saved; and that if you had died last week you would have been lost for ever?” I answered, “Yes, indeed, I did; and I meant it.”  He looked quite bewildered, and stood for a long time arguing with me; then taking a chair he sat down, and began to sympathize and pity me, saying how grieved he was, for he could see madness in my eyes.  He tried to divert my thoughts, and begged that I would go out for a ride with him.  Seeing that he made no impression by his various arguments, and that he could not prevail upon me to recall my words, he ordered his horse; but before mounting he said, “I cannot agree with you, and will oppose you as hard as I can.”

“Very well,” I replied; “but let us shake hands over it:  there is no need that we should be angry with one another.”